Dribs and Drabbles
by Bellar
Summary: Random drabbles for Rowena and Salazar, not necessarily linked but mostly in the "Nine Kisses" universe. Rated M for future possible future naughtiness 3
1. Ink, Sheets, Mouths and Diets

Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. I own nothing. Except this sad panda face which proves that I don't own Harry Potter. This is the first out of a few planned drabbled I have for this pair- I love me Rowezar 3 (if there's an actual term for them let me know, because Slytherclaw, Salwena and Ravenrin all kinda sound… you know… stupid) Read and Review!

_My foot is going numb…_

Rowena tried to pry her leg from under her sleeping companion to no avail. For the last year this had been their routine- do the rounds around the hallways, finish up marking homework in bed together in the candlelight until the early hours and then fall asleep together in a tangled mess of quills and limbs.

It's not that Rowena minded it however; sure it was exhausting but it was all so rewarding. Knowing that she and her friends were making a marked difference for their people and the future renewed her vigour. Knowing that she had a warm bed and a loving embrace to end the day with filled her heart with strength. Looking over to the man next to her she couldn't help but allow a tired smile cross her face. Normally a man full of grace and elegance, a man with such sophistication and control over every facet of his being- was currently sprawled haphazardly across her bed. His face was bathed in the unearthly glow of the stars making his usual pallor seem almost ethereal. He was a beautiful man indeed. Opaque ebony strands of hair sticking up in odd directions crowned his head and her pillows. _It's almost reaching his shoulders now, _she thought absentmindedly as she ran her fingers through the silky hairs smirking to herself as he unknowingly leant further into her touch, _It really does suit him, it makes him look even more regal than he already is. Maybe he'd let me braid it._ Shaking her head in laughter she let her fingers trace the smooth skin of his temple down his high cheekbones, the bridge of his aristocratic nose and then over his mouth.

His mouth. His perfectly shaped mouth.

A part of his body that had held her attention for many different reasons for as long as she could remember. From his mouth came the most beautiful thoughts, inspiring words and ideas. His mouth taught the children of their school and kept them in line, his mouth let magic come to life and his mouth could make her laugh and moan and scream. Yet she noticed the harsh lines that were beginning to form around the corners of his lips, angry lines starting to bury themselves into his skin showing the other uses of his mouth. The spiteful and hate fuelled words he'd spit at Muggleborns, the terror he inflicted when he casted spells that stank of something darker and the pain he caused when he screamed and yelled at all of them about his beliefs, his fears and his plans… but all while nothing wounded her more than his silence.

But… his mouth was still. No good things… no bad things… just still. As still and peaceful as the rest of him. Without watching him teach, without watching him fight with Godric over God knows what… he was still a young man in his prime who looked happy to be in bed with the woman he loved. When he was asleep he looked complete. As he turned over Rowena took the opportunity to steal her leg back and tried to rub some feeling back into it.

"... You know watching me sleep isn't exactly the same thing as sleeping yourself Ro" he muttered into the pillow while slowly letting one eye creak open to peer up at her.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked not paying too much attention to him as she fussed with her pillows fighting the blush staining her cheeks. _He couldn't have known I was watching him. He's not that good of an actor. _

"I'm an _amazing_ actor and you know it"

"Stop doing that! I hate when you do that! It's an unfair advantage," she shrieked as she swatted his face with a pillow. "It's creepy Laz- no one should be able to listen in on one's thoughts or delve into memories…" He pulled himself up to a seated position until he was eye level with her. He let his nose rub hers ever so slightly in a private display of unbridled affection.

"There's not one memory or thought or dream that you could ever have that would be secret to me Ro… not because you couldn't hide them from me from your mind… but you have never been able to hide them from your eyes. Your eyes tell me more than you could ever think… But," he raised his eyebrows and his voice to interrupt her before she interrupted him, "but if you really don't like it… I will refrain from using it on you." He quickly pecked the tip of her nose letting his lips flutter over her face with sporadic butterfly kisses. "Besides, almost every one of your memories have me in them or are about me and I am going to make sure all of your new ones will have me in them too… Now- sleep"

He pulled them both down under the sheets, kicking away ink bottles and parchment off the bed as he did so. After a moment or two of settling in they found comfort in each other's arms with Salazar's chin resting atop her head. His heart beat strong and steady in her ears, a smooth confident rhythm lulling her to sleep. She smiled to herself, as much as she loved his mouth she had to admit his arms were just as fascinating. Solid and toned, long and refined- tools for his potions, weapons in a duel… instruments to hold her so unbelievably close to him sometimes she thought she'd break- his arms were her shields. Always have been, always will be.

"Laz…" she whispered her voice tinged with drowsiness, her fingers playing with the buttons on his night shirt.

"Mmmmph?"

"I think you need to go on a diet. I tried getting my leg out from under you before and I couldn't even budge it… I had no idea that black and dark green were so slimming! I'd never have guessed that you were such a little glutton under all those layers! But seriously I think those House Elves are putting a little extra butter in your-"

With a speed she forgot he had he quickly pinned her down and began torturing her with his fingers- searching, exploring, prodding… every bloody ticklish spot he could find. Rowena loves the quiet moments where she was lost in her thoughts about life but right now- their rustling sheets, their excited breathing and their muffled laughter bouncing around the room and the feeling of contentment she had- is the reason why she keeps breathing.


	2. Colour Chart

Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling- but a girl can dream. And covet. Covet like crazy.

His world started off filled with black, green and silver.

Then one day crimson, gold came to play, and then just as suddenly his life was all blue and bronze. Light had crept in unannounced and somewhat unwelcomed.

His life was a basic palette before all this. Dark and dismal devoid of pleasure. No fun, no games, no tears or pain. It was easier then, so much easier.

But now all he saw was red. A fiery shade matching the rage pitted deep in his chest.

The bastard was twirling her. _Twirling. _As if the son of a bitch had any right to even look at her let alone put one filthy finger on her- manhandling her with his course hands just flinging her about like a child's rag-doll in the wind. _Don't lie to yourself Salazar… you're not angry he's touching her. You're angry because she likes it_. He clenched his hands tighter, like little balls of fury shaking at his sides. He could feel his nails pierce his skin and the warm blood trickling slowly out of the wounds but he didn't care. He relished the pain, relished in the colour of his anger.

She's _laughing_, with her head thrown back letting those brilliant ebony locks of hers float in the air, rushing around her like a magnificent dark cloak surrounding her. Her rich cobalt eyes shut tightly with a nervous kind of delight and her own fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders bunching up the expensive fabric of his tunic. She forgot that he was even there, like it was only the two of them in the world- and everybody else statues resigned to the cruel fates of watching the amazing couple together. He would never forget about her, no matter the situation. It wouldn't matter if the world were collapsing down on him- he would make sure she was safe before succumbing to death. It wouldn't matter if a thousand beautiful women threw themselves down begging to be with him- he would only ever see one woman. Even if God himself said she couldn't be with him- he'd overthrow the Devil and wage war on heaven and earth for her. He would never forget about her.

He released the breath he didn't realise he was holding and continued to seethe and stew in his own private concoction of masochism. It wasn't even a big deal he reasoned. He had come back from a long journey and she was worried for her friend, she was happy he was safe. Truth be told he too was glad he was home and safe… but nonetheless… not _that_ glad. He continued to glare as she was drawn into strong muscular arms for a tight embrace all the while still laughing. Those chimes ringing in his ears, haunting him. He kept listening, as intensely as he could.

"Welcome home Godric, it's so great to have you back safe! We've all missed you" He peered into her heart, in her mind- that's all she was truly thinking about. No sordid thoughts or lies just a genuine platonic love for her friend. _She's rubbing his arms… she's touching him back. The bastard is loving this._

"Dearest Rowena it's a blessing to be back, Hogwarts is home after all!" he boomed a grin gracing his freshly tanned features. Salazar was not a blind man; he prided himself on being able to see the finer details to be able to see underneath the underneath… it just so happened that he really _could_ see underneath. He didn't like what he saw. Godric's thoughts though still clean, had him holding her close locked in a romantic moment… he saw lips almost touching, shy gentle caresses and hushed confessions of love… _Godric really was a bastard!_

He ground his teeth together wincing at the severely unpleasant sensation that rippled throughout his body. He'd been ignoring the signs for months. He had _tried_ to be blind to what was happening in front of him. After all he and Godric had been friends since they were born surely what was transpiring was not actually reality, it must have been some sick twisted nightmare that a botched up potion fashioned. Problem was, he didn't make mistakes with his potions. Just his friends it seemed.

_I can't be too angry or rash- Godric does not know that Rowena and I are in a romantic relationship. He does not know that I have her heart, body and mind. He does not know she loves me. She loves me. Me. Never you._

His fingers cut even deeper into his injured hands and he let out a gasp of pain, he quickly glanced up to find Godric staring at him. He watched as a multitude of expressions flashed across his old friend's face. Shock. Confusion. Concern. Understanding. And then… _Competition._

Salazar steeled himself. Competition indeed. If God didn't stand a chance against him… where did a mere mortal stand? Surely his vast intelligence and superior cunning would win over brawn and bravado.

Laughter. Her blasted laughter.

_Let us test how mortal Godric Gryffindor really is. Let his crimson pour._


	3. Weak

Harry Potter does not belong to me. If I did- I'd be a whole lot richer… and it would contain a whole lot more smut. It would literally have been Harry Potter the tale of a horny teenager and his just as horny friends books one to seven. _I'm. Just. Saying_.

She was getting winded now. The burning down the side of her body was getting stronger, the pulses of pain starting to stretch further and deeper. She couldn't give up now though, she was so close to safety… so close. Just a little bit more and he wouldn't be able to attack her… a little more and… _snap. _Her legs quickly folded underneath her as her left ankle began to throb; she'd missed those damned tree roots and now she was going to get captured. She reached for her wand a mere foot away from her grasp until a foot slammed down so hard upon it she was sure that the wood had snapped in two. She squeezed her eyes shut and awaited for the barrage of torment to begin.

"A Witch without her wand, how utterly pathetic" he mocked letting his foot roll over the long piece of wood. _Ah good, at least it's still in one piece_.

"A Wizard attacking an unarmed Witch- how vile" she snapped back, her eyes never leaving the rocking boot. "If you want this to be an honest fight then you should consider returning my wand to me unless you wish to claim victory in this manner. Should you do so would insure that you are indeed a coward and completely without honour" she hissed with her chin held high with defiance. If she was going to go down, it wouldn't be without a fight. However short that fight may be.

"A victory, little girl is a victory nonetheless. If one could claim it even without honour it does not mean it is no longer a victory. There are many souls in this world, many who are far more benevolent than I. I do not pretend to be a knight in shining armour nor a paragon with the highest of morals. I will take whatever victory I can get. A win is a win… my dear" his voice almost predatory as his eyes raked over her form. She forced back the urgent need to spit in his face as he toed her wand over to her reach. She quickly snapped it up and healed her ankle with a hushed incantation. Pushing herself from the palms of her hands she gingerly allowed weight back onto her previously injured foot, still very sore yes, but well enough to fight or to flee.

"Well then, I guess you do have some honour after all. You have been most _gracious _in allowing me a fighting chance"

"Honour has nothing to do with it Lady Ravenclaw- I just like a challenge" his teeth bared by his smug grin, "Now- we duel."

Rowena steadied herself, she tried to recall all the different spells Godric had taught her. _Stupefy, stun him first Rowena- then run to safety. _She knew she was a great Witch, there could never be a doubt about it, however she also knew that the man in front of her could out duel her twice over. She'd never given much thought to duelling, always holed up reading books about it rather than practising- her instincts were not attuned for it. Yet. If she made it out of there in one piece she promised to continue her duelling lessons with Godric.

Before she could even utter the words her body betrayed her; her arms knitted to the sides of her body and her legs bound together. She couldn't move, no matter how hard she tried to her body was under his control now. She had never felt so much panic in her life until this very moment. Rowena was a woman who believed in self control and not being in control of her own movements frightened her to no end. She wished she could have closed her eyes so she wouldn't have see what was to come, to see that look of satisfaction on his face, the triumph in his eyes.

"Tsk tsk tsk- I guess I didn't need to give you the wand back at all Lady Ravenclaw"

_I hate you. _

"Maybe I should have given you a sword or bow, perhaps you may have more luck with those"

_You are scum. _

"At least have drawn some blood, mark a bruise on my flesh…"

_Your neck will have my hands etched upon your skin even when you pass into oblivion. _

"Alas… you have proven to be too weak" his disgust was dripping from his tone. "Not worth my time, not worthy of my spells" he flourished his hand and the invisible bonds around her body constricted painfully labouring her breathing to light rasps.

_Ouch._

He made his way over to her prone form and stood over her with one foot on either side of her body. She could barely make out his face from her angle on the ground, his entire face was bathed in shadow- it was better this way. He allowed himself to fall into a crouch and prodded her chin up with his wand. The pain of him forcing her head away from her chest was unbelievable. His spell forcing her head back against his wand as it tried to go back to its original position. She was thankful that she couldn't open her mouth to let the impending scream out; she didn't want to give him the pleasure.

He pulled his wand away from her and let her head drop unceremoniously against her chest with a soft thud. She couldn't stop a few stray tears of agony falling, the moisture finally coating her drying eyes.

"Enough"

Her bonds immediately disappeared and with her body freed from its imprisonment her limbs fell away from her, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth tore open. She couldn't hold it in, the scream, the pain and the humiliation. Before she knew it she was crying uncontrollably into the dirt, her tears leaving a muddy trail. She tried to stop crying, hell, she didn't even know why she was crying- but she couldn't. Her pain was tangible and intense. She had lost.

"Enough" he said again with even more force. The harsh and unyielding tone in his voice was palpable. It made her weep harder.

A hand was on her temple, soft and tender.

"I said, enough… enough Ro," that hand was running gently through her hair, another hand turning her face away from the earth. Wiping away the filth that gathered in glistening steaks across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise that I was going too far. I didn't know that it was too much"

He was answered with more wailing and screams.

He took her into his arms, all limp and heavy with emotion. He cradled her as delicately as he could trying to sway her into being calm, she stilled. Her sobs becoming quieter and less frequent. Her breathing slowing to sporadic hiccups.

"You hurt me Laz," she whispered clutching onto her wand and his robe. "You actually hurt me- I was almost scared of you" the disbelief in her voice did not surprise him. He shook his head and left an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

"You agreed to this Ro, you asked, _begged_ me to duel with you. To teach you as best I could. '_Don't take it easy on me Laz, I can take it'_ you said- but even so I gave you a safe area,"

"You didn't even let me _reach_ that area" she interrupted

"Of course I didn't. Because when you duel, there is no safe area. A real duel, in real life with very real enemies is extremely different to what you read in books Ro. Not everyone follows the rules- more often than not there is none of that pompous bowing, having seconds to succeed you should you fall… there is only you and winning" he paused, letting his arms give her a reassuring squeeze before he continued. "In a real duel my love, there is no honour to be had. Just your life. I may have hurt you, and for that I apologise. I never want to be the cause of any pain for you- but you have to learn. I didn't even use a spell that would really cause you any harm- other people out there will not be as merciful."

"Merciful?! You call binding me and almost stabbing my face with your wand merciful?" she scolded trying her best to free herself from his grasp, without any success. He tightened his hold on her, again almost painfully.

"Yes, yes I _was_ merciful. I may have wounded your skin and I definitely wounded your pride- but I did not violate you. I did not kill you. Others will not be so kind Rowena, people are not kind especially to those who are weak and like it or not Ro- you, just before- and right now- you were and are weak. I refuse to be like Godric and coddle you during these duels- doing so will only make you weaker."

She huffed indignantly into his clothes before relenting to his words. She _didn't _like it but it didn't cloud the fact that the bastard was right. _She hated that_. She knew that the people she may have to face in the future would be crueller and give her no chance to win. That the pain she bore today would be nothing to what may be inflicted on her by others.

"But I won't let you stay that way- you are too important to me to let you run around with only mediocre spells to defend yourself and no duelling experience to draw from in times of crisis" he breathed into her hair. "There will be times that I will not always be there to protect you, you need to be able to protect yourself."

Rowena loosened her death grip on his robes and let her gaze find his, his eyes filled with sincerity and passion.

"Or maybe one day Laz, I'll need to protect you"

He dropped his forehead onto the crown of her hair and permitted a small chuckle to escape his lips. Maybe this dirt covered, weeping girl was stronger than he thought.

"There is that Ro, there is always that," he picked her up dusting off the soil that marred her fine robes and steadied her on her feet. Seeing her wobble ungracefully before him he turned around and bent down ever so slightly offering his back to her. Within seconds he felt her clamber up hurriedly and clasp her arms around his shoulders for support. Her soft cheek against his ear, he could feel that she was fighting a smile. Even after all that, his Ro could find something to smile about- she really was stronger than he believed.

"Until that day Ro, I'll always be here to protect you"

"And to carry me!" she piped her mood seeming to brighten with the close contact of her lover. "I promise Laz, next time I'll be better. I promise I won't be weak anymore… but not right now. Right now- you carry me" she nestled into him and allowed herself to close her eyes and enjoy the ride. She could be strong another day, today, _right now_, she wanted to be protected, to be held and to be feel loved. To forget everything that happened earlier- those thoughts were for tomorrow.

"Whatever you say Little Ravenclaw, whatever you say"

He hitched her up higher as he walked, clasping her thighs a little harder to make sure she was secure against him. He too would become stronger- to protect the woman he wanted to carry, to hold, for the rest of his life. He wanted to be so strong that his love would never have any reason to be afraid or to feel pain again.

And he would do anything to get that strong no matter how difficult or unscrupulous; a dark promise he made to himself during the silence of their walk back to their newly acquired school. His strength and power were always meant for her- and she deserved everything.


	4. Splurt

I think it's safe to say that I don't own HP or anything to do with HP from now on… we don't need to rub it in. As I write this I am actually suffering from quite the cold- "write what you know" right?

This particular story takes place when they're quite young, Rowena at 11 and Salazar at 16, so no naughty thoughts people ;)

His entire room was green; it reminded her of being trapped in a moss-ridden cave hidden in the depths of the lushest forests. It wasn't off putting, not at all actually. It was oddly comforting when she thought about it- after all when was there a time she ever saw her old friend not draped in the rich hue? The room was still quite dark with only a sliver of light streaming through the crack in the curtains but she knew the landscape of the room well enough to walk with her eyes closed.

A rustle from the sheets reminded her to quiet her breathing and her steps became softer as she navigated from the door to end of the bed ensuring she didn't disturb the organised mess of books, quills and vials of ingredients. She didn't want to get a tongue lashing from him for making a mess in his room- _although looking at the state of the floor how would he be able to tell the difference between her mess and his mess?... Where was the floor?!_

Rowena hastened her movements until she was looking directly at a rumpled cacophony of pillows and limbs that was peacefully rising up and down in tune to the soft snores. Taking a deep breath of her own she pushed down through her knees to the balls of her feet and propelled herself on top of the mass of bed coverings squealing with laughter.

"…. Urgh" was all the quilt said.

"Morning Mr Cranky Pants, sleeping in are we?" she giggled as she tore away at the pillows trying to find her dearest friend's face. He looked horrid.

"Good Lord Laz, what happened to you?" _Sniffle. Cough. Splurt. Sniffle. _Like really, really terrible looking.

"Don't tell me you're sick? You're _never_ sick! You always cure yourself!" _Splurt. Sniffle. Cough. Gag._

"Did you need to get a healer?" she sat back on her haunches allowing her friend some space to apparently hack out his lungs or lower intestine.

"… Urgh… nno" was all he did before cocooning himself again. Rowena never to be denied something she wanted managed to rip the covers away from him again. She let her eyes wander over him again, his skin was a sickly shade of pale- paler than she had ever seen on him. The skin around his eyes were tinged with blue and green a sure sign that the poor teen hadn't slept and spent most of his night coughing up or throwing up. Neither particularly dashing.

"Nnnoo don't bother. This is all my fault anyway. Was trying out a new potion to cure this cursed cold and I think I may had added too much Mandrake root… I don't know. My head hurts" he pulled wearily at his eyes attempting to force them to focus properly.

Rowena was taken aback. She'd never heard Salazar sound so utterly defeated and tired- the fact that he was slurring some of his words and constantly sniffling in what little air he could only added to the incredibly pathetic picture. It was adorable. All her life Salazar was untouchable and pristine, immaculately presented at all times with a sharp retort ready on the tip of his tongue. However seeing him in a bundle of quilts, still dressed in his pyjamas (with the collar tipping over one shoulder baring his very pointy collar bone, this boy needed a good feeding!) with his hair pointing in all directions and his nose red and dry from all the wiping and blowing made her want to gather him up in her arms and sing him soothing lullabies. Although knowing Salazar as she did she knew he'd find some sort of inhuman strength and physically kick her off the bed. That or he'd hex her. Yeah, he'd totally hex her.

"Ro, I'm sorry. I'm not well enough to entertain you or your family today. I'd rather not have to wipe off phlegm from your mother's face when I undoubtedly cough onto it" he uttered as he began to draw the covers back around him.

"Oh I don't know- I'm sure mother wouldn't mind. She adores you Laz and I'm sure she'd love to take care of you" she quipped smiling to herself at the thought of Laz getting a bath from her mother. His scowl growing deeper and his cheeks getting redder as her mother asked when the last time he had a haircut was and if he's regularly washing behind his ears.

"No Rowena. No. Don't ask your mother to do anything, or for heaven's sake your father either. I'll be fine I promise- just please let me rest and I'll be fine company for you tomorrow" he freed his arm from the blankets grip and shooed her away. As much as he was looking forward to seeing his young friend his exhaustion was catching up fast and that pitiful arm wiggle had spent up the last of his energy. He felt a soft pat on his hand as she lightly tugged the arm back down to rest against his hip, her delicate tiny fingers breathing some warmth into his body with her soft touch. The weight on his bed shifted and he could make out the sounds of her light footsteps move towards the door and the faint click of the door shutting. His eyelids started to feel as if centaurs themselves were dragging them down and who was he to deny the heavy-handed imaginary centaurs- in mere moments the Slytherin heir lulled into dreams.

00000

The aroma of something delicious and comforting was the first thing he noticed. The second was the cackle of wood in his fireplace and the third was the heat coming from it. The fourth was the cool beads of what he assumed was water dripping from his forehead and trickling down his hairline some even pooling in his ears. He opened his eyes as he tentatively touched the compress on his head inadvertently squeezing out more drops. He sat up and the let the soaked cloth fall harshly onto his lap with a soggy _plop_. He did feel better after his sleep a million times better in fact- his fever while still in place was markedly lower and his sinuses definitely more clear, the feeling of someone pushing down on his face with both hands had miraculously gone away.

Salazar surveyed his room with strengthened vigour.

Someone had changed his heavy quilts with a lighter blanket, someone had started a fire to make sure the room didn't get too cold, cleaned the floor of his illness driven mess that he had left there the night before and he assumed the same person had placed the cold compress on his head. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, no not at all, it was more unsettling for him that he was so sick he slept through it.

On his bedside table he saw a humble tray of steaming soup and a crust of fresh bread a teapot, some cups and what he believed was a water skin. Stretching out properly for the first time in a day he propped himself against the headboard for support and tried to reach for the water skin hoping someone was smart enough to have actually filled it with water. Just as the damned thing was within his grasp his bedroom door creaked open with a dishevelled Rowena pushing the door open with her elbow as she carried a large basin of water into the room. So focused was she to not spill any of said water onto the floor that she didn't bother looking up to see her patient sitting up with an expression of bewilderment strewn on his handsome face.

Salazar let her put the basin down on the ground before clearing his throat earning him a small squeak of surprise from the young girl. Pulling the clean cloths from her shoulder she dropped them on the foot of the bed and eagerly climbed atop beside him placing her hands on his forehead then his cheeks and neck to check his temperature. Her blossoming features etched with rapt concern for her oldest friend as she continued to fuss over him like a clucking mother hen. He couldn't help the fatigued grin that spread over his face- the little chit had spent the day looking after him, he was indeed very lucky to have such a friend in her. Most little noble girls would pout and throw fits when their host refused to entertain them; especially when they had travelled so far to no avail but not Rowena. Here was a child with a pure heart; much purer than his would ever dream to be- all messed up from a long days work. Her dark hair coming loose from its regal braid and the wavy strands somewhat matted to her face from perspiration. Her finery was hidden behind an old apron she must have borrowed from one of the servants with her sleeves pushed far beyond her elbows.

"Did… Did you do all of this by yourself Ro?" he rasped quietly, his throat was dry and his mouth parched. The girl nodded empathically and smiled shyly.

"Mother helped me make the soup though- I even killed the chicken myself" she smiled cheekily making Salazar's eyes bug out and cause him to begin coughing frenziedly.

"You what? Why didn't you get one of cooks to do that?" he managed as she softly patted him on the back to calm him.

"Oh relax. You speak as if my parents would allow me to run around your courtyard with a cleaver in hand"

"And you speak as if you couldn't manipulate them into believing that the ritual slaughtering of chickens by young maidens was for the good of mankind" she peered over her shoulder and shot him a look of disdain as she dipped her forgotten linens into the basin of water. "You're still not denying it Ro"

She wrung out the cloth and slapped it forcefully against his face.

"No. I guess I'm not denying it Laz" she smiled as she again positioned herself on the bed beside him, this time with the tray of food on her lap. She handed him the water skin to let him sate his thirst before slowly stirring the cooling soup. After several deep gulps of water he wiped the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand and looked over his friend once again.

"Ro- thank you. Sincerely this was a great kindness you have performed, however… why did you do this by hand? A wave of your wand and surely the tasks would have been done in less time and with less hassle" he brought the skin back to his lips to continue drinking while awaiting her answer. The young Ravenclaw smiled as she continued looking into the soup as she stirred almost looking hypnotised by the swirling cream and chunks of chicken.

"Mother always takes care of me herself whenever I fall ill Laz. She never gets the servants to do anything- it's always her. She says that by doing everything herself that whatever she does for me is filled with her love and that love would make me better sooner than any healer ever could. It has always worked for me- so when I asked her if it would work for you if I did the same and she said that it would- well, I just had to try Laz," she let her sapphire eyes lock onto his and offered him a small smile. "You're my friend Laz and if my love for you can make you feel better then what is one difficult day for me?"

If Salazar had the strength to move from his seated position he would have given the sweet child an embrace- as tired as he was however he gave her the only thing he could offer- a rare ("For Rowena Only") genuine smile.

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The day had been eerily quiet with the Slytherin heir bedridden and the young Ravenclaw tending to him however that did not stop their sires from enjoying the peace. A day spent catching up with fine wines and cheeses, laughs and memories made for quite the evening for the adults in the castle. So engrossed in their revelry were they that they actually forgot how late it was and still without a sighting of the small girl since her fetching more water for Salazar. Salvatore, Oberon and Gwyn all a little rosier in the cheeks merrily made their way back to the north wing of the castle where all their rooms were located to retire for the evening. Salvatore peaked into his only child's room and his ebony eyebrows rose up to his devil's peak. Gesturing silently with his head he encouraged the Ravenclaw's to catch a glimpse as he opened the door further ajar.

There in the dying embers of firelight was Rowena propped up against the headboard with Salazar leaning alongside her, resting his head under her chin- arms wrapped around each other in lieu of warmer quilts. A tray was kicked haphazardly further down the bed, knocking over the bowl spilling its contents down the side of the bed and onto the floor. Crumbs were scattered over them both of them and all around them and the bed was in complete and utter disarray- but the look of serenity upon their children's faces made them feel warmer than wine ever could.

Gwyn as quietly as she could made her way to the bed and gave both of them a kiss goodnight on the forehead before raising the blankets around them both. After closing the door behind them Salvatore regained some of his normal composure and senses,

"I know she is but a child but shouldn't we worry about propriety-"

"Salvatore- let the gossips whisper as much as they care. They're still children, innocent and showing a bond only they can. If they don't mind what people will say then why should we?" Gwyn interrupted touching her friend's arm to remind him that they weren't just any other nobles- they were _real friends_. No judging, no need for formalities or show.

"Besides," Oberon chuckled, "Anyone says something we don't like we only need to let Rowena know before the little shrew lets them have a piece of her mind. So headstrong for such a small thing… that or we could let her run around with the cleaver some more… that… that was truly terrifying."


End file.
